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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693594">After Ages, Before Eons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Syns/pseuds/C_Syns'>C_Syns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Skeletons, tcesters don't interact</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:27:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Syns/pseuds/C_Syns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a monster, one that lived in the sewers, they said.</p><p>It was huge, and wild, and thought of only itself.</p><p>It had a lair, somewhere, if it existed, a lair where it lived alone, snarling and driving back any who dated enter.</p><p>That's what they said, even if no one had gone down to see in decades.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>After Ages, Before Eons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    “But there is a monster down here.” Came the grating whine, from a short, girl, with long, shaggy, blond hair with streaks and chunks dyed every color under the sun. She shrank into his oversized hoodie, both hands jammed into the single pocket. Her eyes flicked around the ancient, derelict sewer.</p><p>    “Art, quit being such a baby.” Snapped the older girl leading the way, a massive, bright glow stick in her hand. The sickly green glow illuminated half crumbed brick, with murky water standing in every crevice. The light caught creatures scurrying out of the way, rats, mice, and mutated silverfish darted into crevices and holes, out of the way of the two girls.</p><p> </p><p>    Art clutched the hand of the older girl, who rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>    “Knock it off.”</p><p> </p><p>    “But it’s scary, Mara.”</p><p> </p><p>    “You said you wanted to come with.”</p><p> </p><p>    Art whimpered and pressed herself against Maras back, almost closing her eyes, barely able to see the bright red denim of Mara’s jacket through her lashes.</p><p> </p><p>    “We haven’t heard anything, and if we do we can just leave.” Mara whispered. She picked her way over a half collapsed wall that was in the way and turned back to give Art a hand. Art tripped and tumbled over, clinging on to Mara as soon as she could, water soaking into her socks as she landed in one of the many stagnant puddles.</p><p> </p><p>    “What if we don’t get out?”</p><p> </p><p>    “Look, you can trust me. I’ll get us out, because I am great. Plus Ash says she saw it once and got out” Mara said, flipping her bark brown ponytail with confidence. Art whined again in response.</p><p> </p><p>    “Ash is an old lady who makes things up.” Art hissed.</p><p> </p><p>    “Look we’ve got to be getting close, it’s only supposed to be so deep. We’ll just take a look, and leave” Mara said, and almost on cue an entrance appeared in the wall of the tunnel. Mara stopped short, staring into the darkness that extended beyond the edge of her green light. She could almost feel it staring back at her.</p><p> </p><p>    Mara squared her shoulders, gripped her glow stick in one hand and Arts hand in the other, and walked through the entrance. The light didn’t reach the entire room, not by a longshot, it was huge, with the ceiling up past what the girls could see. Amongst the crumbling walkway, that might have once been a second floor, there were remains of a ramp, bits of what might have been furniture, and rubble. Maras mouth hung open as she looks around. She let go of Art and tapped her bracelet.</p><p> </p><p>    “Record.” She whispered, harshly, to her wrist. The bracelet beeped and faintly glowed. Art grasped Maras jacket, dragging her feet and shrinking her head into the hood she had on.</p><p> </p><p>    “This is huge.” Mara whispered, tapping a piece of ramp with her glowstick.</p><p> </p><p>    “We saw its lair, can we go?”</p><p> </p><p>    “No, look have you seen a monster yet? No, it’s just a story. Maybe a really big silverfish. Mara shook Art off her jacket and as she explored. There were more rooms. Mara peered into one, pulling the glow stick in, and ignoring the frightened squeak from Art, who pressed herself against Mara.</p><p> </p><p>    The room had the rotted remains of a bed, and tattered, faded paper stuck to the walls, that might have once been posters. Mara jumped and nearly screamed at the sound of something shattering under her foot.</p><p> </p><p>    It was a pointy set of sunglasses, dusty, and in a million, tiny, brittle pieces.</p><p> </p><p>    Art tugged on her jacket.</p><p> </p><p>    “What?” Mara hissed. Art pointed to the corner. A sword, still gleaming and shiny, was propped up against the wall. Mara reached for it, but stopped halfway. </p><p> </p><p>    “That looks sharp, we should leave it alone.” She said, looking around the room, peering at the thik dust for anything else that looks so clean.</p><p> </p><p>    “Mara.” Art whispered. “There’s a light out there.” Her voice shook and she pointed back.</p><p> </p><p>    “What?”</p><p> </p><p>    “A light, I saw when you came in here.” Mara turned and squinted at the doorway. She grabbed the sword, shoving the glow stick into Arts hands. Mara held the hilt with both hands, and left the room, blade first.</p><p> </p><p>    “Where’s the light?” She hissed at Art. Art pointed up to one of the higher floors. Mara squinted and saw, just barely visible, a faint glow coming from a door. Mara frowned and crept up the stairs, her arms strained and shook with the effort of holding the sword in front of her, but she never let it drop. </p><p> </p><p>    The door that was just so slightly spilling light looked just like the rest, perfectly circular. Mara pressed herself against the wall, to one side of the door and listened, to the crushing silence, and the blood rushing in her head.</p><p> </p><p>    Mara took several deep breaths and hoisted the sword up as he darted into the room, with it raised over her head.</p><p> </p><p>    The room was empty, dusty, and dilapidated, like the other rooms were, computers and other tech, forgien, and ancient. The screen of the computer was cracked, and dim, but it was still on.  </p><p> </p><p>    “What’s in there?” Art asked, from outside.</p><p> </p><p>    “Nothing. Old computer stuff.” Marra tapped the side of one tower with the sword, it clanged “Bet Avery would have a field day if she hadn’t chickened out on us.” She muttered. Art crept into the room, staring at the lights that still flickered.</p><p> </p><p>    “I can’t believe anything this old still works.” She said, reaching out to touch the mouse, only to draw her hand back in disgust, with a caked on layer of dust coating her fingers.</p><p> </p><p>    “Gross.” Mara said. She planted the point of the sword into the ground and leaned on it as she squinted up at the computer screen. It flickered, the cracked rafting out from a punch to the lower corner, static and color mixed in with the flashing as she wrinkled her nose.</p><p> </p><p>    “The average age of the soft shelled turtle by species?” She muttered. “Weird.”</p><p> </p><p>    “Other turtles too I think.” Art said, squinting just as hard at the screen.</p><p> </p><p>    “Really weird.”</p><p> </p><p>    “Maybe it’s a turtle monster?”</p><p> </p><p>    “There you go Art, maybe old Ash got away because the monster was slower.”</p><p> </p><p>    “I still don’t think she saw it.”</p><p> </p><p>    Mara rolled her eyes and picked the sword back up.</p><p> </p><p>    “Are you really keeping that?”</p><p> </p><p>    “We’re in a dark sewer cave, of course I am keeping it.” Mara turned and immediately tripped. She jumped, fumbled, and stumbled her way back to her feet and picked up the stick she tripped over. It was some sort of metal staff, half rotten wrapped still doing their best as their job.</p><p> </p><p>    “You want something to swing?” Mara asked, holding out the metal staff</p><p> </p><p>    “No.” Art said, taking the staff anyway.</p><p> </p><p>    They exited the computer room, the pale light trembled and shivered behind them as they left. The only other room on the third floor was a bathroom, dusty, dirty, and smashed, with glass shards from the remainder of the mirror scattered over the floor.</p><p> </p><p>    The second floor had an old school arcade, with freestanding machines. Mara and Art both wiped dust off of game cabinets and tried the switches. Mara got nothing, and Art got a sputtering, wheezing machine that barely started, and stopped just as soon as it had.</p><p> </p><p>    “Shame, these look cool.” Mara said, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.</p><p> </p><p>    “Maybe we do bring Avery here. I bet she could get these working.” Art said, tapping on the screen and heading to try another machine.</p><p> </p><p>    “Wow I didn’t realize it was old ass games that would make you quit being such a chicken.” Mara said.</p><p> </p><p>    “Shut up.”</p><p> </p><p>    “I bet that it’s the electricity still running making people all weird about this place. That silence that you get when something is on is different and no one goes up, so they all think something eerie is happening, but it’s just that.” Mara said, she tried to cross her arms, but halfway through remembered she was holding a sword, so dropped that idea. </p><p> </p><p>    “Maybe. It’s really messed up. I bet people just get creeped out and see things.” Art said, wandering out from the arcade. The common area was torn, pieces of what could have been a couch or a chair strewn about, a projector screen slashed and torn, ancient film reel littered the ground.</p><p> </p><p>    “This place would probably have been sweet before it got all gunked up.” Mara said. “We get Avery and you and me and we can make this place sweet again. Lottie won’t help, but will gloa about how she’ll make the place so cool and take so many pictures.”</p><p> </p><p>    “I’m sorry, is that the plan now?”</p><p> </p><p>    “Why not, no one is here, people are afraid to wander in, it’s cool. Sounds perfect, a perfect place to hang out.”</p><p>    “Uh it’s a creep, dangerous sewer that’s all falling apart.”</p><p> </p><p>    Mara picked up a piece of couch, or chair, even with the age, even though it was clearly slowly disintegrating there were clear claw marks in the foam.</p><p> </p><p>    “Hm. Maybe there was something down here once. Can’t have been any time recently though. Took how dusty it is.” She said, dropping the foam and bushing off the foam dust on her pants.</p><p> </p><p>    The bedroom on the second floor stank. There were clothes, old, rotted or rotting, fallen into tatters and rags. Mara pulled her shirt up over her nose and Art coughed at the heavy, cloying smell. There were tables and shelves with plastic action figures, that seemed almost untouched by time, only dusty with age. Mara picked one up, and when she squeezed it it let out a hideous, stuttering, electronic wail and she dropped it to the floor, where it clattered under the remains of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>    The kitchen was especially destroyed, the door of the fridge was off the hinges, and half buried in the wall. Glass and ceramic shards and pieces from shattered plates and jars, the corpses of small bugs were on most every surface. The bale had been smashed, and one side bore deep claw marks. The cabinets and drawers were all torn off, or out, and thrown all over, scraps and splinters of wood mixed in with the glass.</p><p> </p><p>    “Nasty.” Art said.</p><p> </p><p>    “Yeah no way to fix this up to top. It’ll be spaced to make some room.” MAra said.</p><p> </p><p>    “I don’t know about making this a hang out.”</p><p> </p><p>    “You liked the arcade.”</p><p>    </p><p>    “Yeah? So what, there’s more to this place.”</p><p> </p><p>    “So it’s some work, it’d be cool.”</p><p> </p><p>    Mara gestured to the space with her hand, and with the sword.</p><p> </p><p>    “It’s so big, and with work it’d be gorgeous. It will be a lot of work but just imagine it.” Maras eyes sparkled at the ideas running through her head.</p><p> </p><p>    Art grunted, and kicked a scrap piece of wood, it clattered off, out of the glow of the glow stick and into the darkness. Mara reached into her pocket and cracked open another glow stick, shaking it as it popped to life, with a pale yellow light. She peered over the edge of the floor, down to the ground floor before and throw the glow stick down. It landed with a thud.</p><p>    “Wait, use the stairs!” Art called, when she realized Mara had started to climb down the partially collapsed section of floor. Mara ignored the advice and careful picked her way down the rubble, looking out for sharp edges or nails on the way. Art whined, loudly, and sprinted to the stairs to get down to Mara.</p><p> </p><p>    She had a moment of panic when Mara, and the yellow glow stick, were gone by the time she got there.</p><p> </p><p>    “Mara!” She hissed, in a loud panicked whisper, running to the nearest door, it was a garage, with a huge tank of a vehicle. The tires were slashed and torn up, the body dented and dinged. Art paused and held up her fist, punching the indent, with no force, if her hand had been bigger it would have matched perfectly.</p><p> </p><p>    In the garage there was a door. And from the door there came a noise, a quiet noise, like someone shuffling paper in the next room over. Art stared and nearly tripped, righting herself as she ran out of the room, eyes wide and heart pounding.</p><p> </p><p>Mara was back, holding an orange flail in the same hand as her glow stick. Art slammed into Mara, nearly sending both of them toppling to the floor. Mara shouted and flailed, dropping the sword and the little orange mace with a set of clanging crash that rang and echoed around the empty room.</p><p> </p><p>    “Hey Art. What the hell was that?” Mara asked, pushing Art back, with a scowl.</p><p> </p><p>    “There’s something in there.” Art pointed to the door to the garage and grasped Mara with an iron grip. “Let’s leave you said we could leave if we heard something, I heard something.” The words slammed into each other in their haste, as they tumbled from Arts mouth to land in a tangled heap in Mara’s ears.</p><p> </p><p>    “What? What did you hear?” Mara picked up the sword again, letting the flail drop with another clang. </p><p> </p><p>    “I don’t know. Moving?”</p><p> </p><p>    “Loud?”</p><p> </p><p>    “No, who cares.”</p><p> </p><p>    “There were so many rats down here I bet that is what you heard.”</p><p> </p><p>    Art pulled at Mara, ineffectually. </p><p> </p><p>    “You can leave, I’m looking.” Mara pushed Art awat and charged into the garage. She glanced at the tank, and the fallen manikins. And turned with quick, sharp motions, to see what was there.</p><p> </p><p>    Nothing was there.</p><p> </p><p>    She sighed and turned to leave, when she heard a noise, like rustling paper. She turned back, eyeing up the single closed door in the room. Her hands shook as she gripped the hilt of the sword tighter. She grasped the doorknob, eyes locked on She threw open the door, jumping back, with the sword raised over her head.</p><p> </p><p>    There was a pile of crumpled, disintegrating paper, and nothing more.</p><p> </p><p>    Mara rolled her eyes and kicked at the paper, it slid farther into the closet it was in, black, and red, still visible beyond the thick coat of dust. She wrinkled her nose and stomped out.</p><p> </p><p>    “It was nothing, Art. Again”</p><p> </p><p>    Art didn’t look sheepish, she still just looked scared, ready to jump as anything she thought she saw in the dark.</p><p> </p><p>    “There is literally, hu, one more room. We’ll hit it and make waves, okay?” Mara said, punching Art in the shoulder, with love.</p><p> </p><p>    Art grasped Mara again, shaking her head, but not answering out loud. She kept her grip, staff and glow stick held together in her other hand so she could keep her hold on Mara.</p><p> </p><p>    Mara burst into the last room and immediately fell back at what she saw, a hulking shape, sharp, pointy, and directly ahead of them. She screamed, closed her eyes, and launched everything she was holding, the sword, the mace, and the glow stick, at the thing that was there. All three hit with hollow thuds, adn fell to the ground. The thing didn’t move. </p><p> </p><p>    When nothing happened she cracked open one eye. Art was clinging to her tightly, shaking and quietly crying at the sight. MAra blinked and leaned forward, the light that bathed the thing gave her a good view.</p><p> </p><p>    It wasn’t skin and bones, but shell and bones, a huge, sharp shell, to be exact. There was nothing inside but bones, dray and pale, anddusty. The dust in the room was thicker than it had been anywhere else, sitting in piles that would cover someone's shoes if they stepped into them.</p><p> </p><p>     Mara prompt did and she got close, knocking the great, huge shell with one hand. The knock echoed in the shell, loud and hollow.</p><p>    “Guess there was something here, once.” Mara said. The shell was surrounded by heaps of stuff, torn and tattered remnants of cloth and torn open bits of pillows, dusty feathers and stuffing, the ruined, rotting remains of stuffed toys were pulled in around the shell, and partially under it. Great armfull of dust had been pulled close, into a heap around the thing. Several large ceramic pieces of vase were scattered right up around the empty shell. A pair of reddish batons, and untouched as the sword, were in the corner, far from what was left of the nest in the center of the room</p><p> </p><p>    “Wonder what it was.”</p><p> </p><p>    “A turtle.”</p><p> </p><p>    “Art, don’t be cute. You know what I mean.” Mara picked at the red cloth that was still partially over the shell, stuck in the spikes that were sticking out of it. Art picked up a piece of vase and turned it over in her hands. She squinted at part of it and wiped off dust with the edge of her hoodie sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>    “Forever in our thoughts and the imprints he left in the wall?” Art asked, holding it out to Mara. Mara took it and after a moment of staring, dropped it and launched herself away from the nest.</p><p> </p><p>    “Oh gross I don’t think this is dust.” She said, frantically dusting herself off, and shaking the edges of her jacket.</p><p> </p><p>    “What is it?’</p><p> </p><p>    “Ashes.”</p><p> </p><p>    Art followed suit, squealing and sprinting back out of the room. Maratiptoed through the ash, shuddering and wincing, to rescue the sword, the little orange mace, and the glow stick. She grabbed the batons and followed Art out. Mara ran Art down, she was doubled over, breathing, when Mara plowed into her, knocking both of them to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>    “Hey!”</p><p> </p><p>    “Can we go now, I’m covered in corpse!” Art yelled frantically slapping at her clothes to get the ash off.</p><p> </p><p>    “Yeah.” Mara said, pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes. “Yeah, let’s go.” She picked up all the weapons she’d found.</p><p> </p><p>    Art, on the other hand, put down the staff.</p><p> </p><p>    “Mara, this is a grave, we can’t take those.”</p><p> </p><p>    “They don’t need them, they’re dead.”</p><p> </p><p>    “Mara!”</p><p> </p><p>    “Look Art, I still think this place is cool and am coming back down here to clean it up, so I’m going to move them anyway. Chill out, we’ll lock that door and not disturb them again.”</p><p> </p><p>    Art screwed up her face, frowning and shaking her head. She turned away from Mara, and sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>    “Oh don’t cry, you baby, you don’t even know them!” </p><p> </p><p>    Art just kept sniffling and Mara groaned, looking up at the darkness above them. She listened for a moment then groaned, again, louder and longer. She stomped back over to the door. She opened it and set all of the weapons down on the ground. She glanced at the scene again, the empty shell and the four cracked urns that had been broken against them, the spilled ashes that had been pulled in. She shook her head and closed the door.</p><p> </p><p>    “There, baby.” Mara said, crossing her arms and pouting.</p><p> </p><p>    “Thank you. Now can we go?”</p><p> </p><p>    “Yeah, I guess. Nothing else cool around here.” She muttered. Art reached for her and grabbed hold of her jacket again as they left. Art looked back, as they did, back at the room with the remains of the monster, back at the claw marks and the deep smashed and gouges in the walls, the remnants of what was a home once, spread and scattered, ripped and torn to shreds or broken to pieces.</p><p> </p><p>    “Mara. I don’t think we should come back.” Art whispered. “It’s probably haunted or something.”</p><p> </p><p>    “I didn’t see anything.”</p><p> </p><p>    “I bet it’s a ghost down here, not a monster.”</p><p> </p><p>    “A ghost is a monster.”</p><p> </p><p>    “Please don’t go back, for me?”</p><p> </p><p>    Mara sighed and looked down at Art. She put a hand on Arts head and wildly rubbed her hair, until it was a poofy mess.</p><p>    “For you. I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>    “Thank you.” Art said. She clung to Mara until they were out of the sewer. </p><p> </p><p>    It was weeks before Art felt she’d watched the ashes from her clothes and the memory from her mind. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Look the average life span for the non Raph turtles that pop up when Google if 40-70 between them I know some boxes know softshells can hit 100, but snappers can hit 150. </p><p>It'd be sad if Raph was alone.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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